


Two Punks In Love

by HeyBoy, Rosesnfeathers



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Amputee Bucky Barnes, Bookstore AU, Captain America Reverse Big Bang, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Little Town AU, M/M, Punk Bucky Barnes, Punk Steve Rogers, cap rbb, punks au, sooooo much fluff, veteran bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-12 13:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19230046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyBoy/pseuds/HeyBoy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosesnfeathers/pseuds/Rosesnfeathers
Summary: Bucky found his father’s old records collection and he fell, head first, into music and it became his way to escape. He moved in his own place, rented an empty store in the middle of the town’s main street and here he is, two years later, having his own business where he can just listen to music all day. Music is a noise he can control, a noise he learned not to be scared of like he was of fireworks, and thunderstorms when he first woke up in his hospital bed, missing a limb and a few of his memories.Or the one where Bucky is a vet with a missing arm and a passion for music and Steve is one book nerd coming back to town. The one without any angst. The one with just fluff. The one about two punks, falling in love.





	Two Punks In Love

**Author's Note:**

> So, here's our story for the 2019 Captain America Reverse Big Bang featuring my clumsy words and the beautiful art by @HeyBoy.
> 
> Songs that inspired this fic :  
> Two punks in love - Bülow  
> Do I wanna know - Artic Monkeys  
> Slow dancing in a burning room - John Mayer  
> I just died in your arms tonight - Cutting Crew  
> Us - James Bay

“ _Two punks in love. But you still work to make me smile._  
_Stolen kiss, now I can't wait to waste my life away with you_ ”  
-bülow

 

It was a warm and sunny autumn day.  Like every other Monday morning, Bucky Barnes was walking the small distance from his one-story home, to his not much bigger record store. It was not a big one like those in larger cities, no, but it was his, and he was proud of it. He could keep records that were rare enough that a lot of patrons drove  to this small town in the middle of nowhere to buy them from him.

Lucky enough for Bucky, this town was also full of very nostalgic people who enjoyed music just as much as him and he had a few regulars here, among friends and family.

When his parents both retired, they decided to leave the loud city of New York to move down to this cute little East Coast town. They bought an old house and spent the first few years working on it. 

That was before, though.

Before Bucky and the army, and that accident that made him lose his left arm. That left him scarred, inside and out and with fears he didn’t know he had before.

His sister is now studying abroad in Europe and Bucky couldn’t keep living in New York by himself. There was too much noise, too many people. It was all making the anxiety worse than it already was.

His VA therapist suggested getting closer to his family, going to a calmer and more peaceful place. She also suggested a prosthesis for his missing arm, but he refused. He would learn how to live with just one arm, just like he would learn to live with PTSD and anxiety. He was still a fighter, no matter what happened to him.

He did pack his things and move back in with his parents at the tender age of 28. 

He didn’t stay with them long, though; well, not under their roof.  He found his father’s old records collection and he fell, head first, into music and it became his way to escape. He moved in his own place, rented an empty store in the middle of the town’s main street and here he is, two years later, having his own business where he can just listen to music all day. Music is a noise he can control, a noise he learned not to be scared of like he was of fireworks, and thunderstorms when he first woke up in his hospital bed, missing a limb and a few of his memories.

He makes his way down the street, big combat boots and ripped jeans, topped with a white short sleeve t-shirt and his hair up in his usual bun. His dog tags are resting against his heart, like they always do, under his shirt, safe and warm against his naked skin.

He opens the door to _Nat’s_ dinner and even in the early hours of the morning, it’s already pretty full. Lots of people love to stop by for Natasha’s famous coffee before work and Bucky sure is one of them. He nods to Sam who’s sitting by the window, looking down at his phone like he’s waiting for someone.

He sits at the counter and Natasha, the owner of the place, and also the woman he loves to call his best friend, waves at him. Quickly enough after he arrived in town, she took him in, said she used to be army too, in another life, and she was a great listener. She was always putting him back in his place when he was throwing too much of a pity party over himself. She’s married to Clint, one of the town’s mechanics. Bucky quickly became friends with him too.

Natasha pours him coffee in a to-go cup and slides it across the counter, throwing a smile at him, before walking away to serve other clients. Bucky slides some money to Angie who’s behind the register and gives her a good morning before leaving the dinner, giving a few hello’s and hand waves here and there. There is now some blond dude sitting across from Sam and they seem so engrossed in conversation that Bucky decides to leave without saying hi to his friend. He’ll see him sooner or later anyway, with the size of this town, it’s hard not to.

He crosses the street, put the coffee cup on the ground between his feet before reaching into his pocket for his keys and he opens the door to _Barnes’s Records_ like he does every morning but the weekends. And it is such a good feeling; this routine, this safe little life he has now.

He walks to the back of the store and put a record on, filling the store with the warm sexy sound of The Doors and powers up his laptop, looking through his emails and sipping his coffee. As the morning sun slowly makes his way into the shop, warming up the air and giving everything a soft orange glow, it makes Bucky smile in his cup.

A few hours go by as he works, singing softly to whatever song is playing, when movement outside catches his eye.

A few months ago, Sarah Rogers, the lovely owner of _The Bookmark_ , the bookstore right across the street from him, passed away. She was struck with cancer and it was painfully quick, how fast she got sicker and sicker, and then she was gone. Bucky couldn’t make it to the funeral, sadly, because once every few months he needs to go back to New Work, for some appointments with this physical therapist and at the VA as well.

He sent flowers though, asking Peggy, the florist, to make something really bright and pretty, just like Sarah was.

He was told she had a son, around his age, but he never met him. A few people in town said that he might take back the shop, that it was in the family for generations and that it seemed really important to him that it stayed that way.

As Bucky sees movement, he looks up and there is Sam, standing by the open door of the bookstore, next to a blond man who is just a few inches taller.

Bucky closes his laptop and gets up, walking closer to the windows without even noticing he’s moving. The man is tall, built like he never saw any book nerd. His hair is shaved in what looks like a nice undercut. On his nose there are thick black framed glasses and he is in just a t-shirt, showing ink on his forearms. He is frowning at Sam and Bucky thinks that a man as beautiful as this one should be smiling all the time. Why isn’t he smiling? And then, with the color of the hair, the shape of the nose, he looks so much like Sarah that Bucky quickly understands he might be her son.

He is so painfully handsome that Bucky feels a pang right in the middle of his chest, right under the dog tags. It’s a reminder that it’s been a very, very long time, since he’s felt that kind of wonderful thing in between the steady beats of his heart.

He looks at the guy being hugged by Sam, and the pull suddenly changes into some bittersweet jealousy, as if he was the one who wanted to be hugged by that beautiful man just now.

Sam holds him for a long time, with a hand softly resting at the back of his neck. Bucky is kind of happy that someone at least is there to hold him through such a difficult time.

When Sam releases him, he stays close, squeezing the other man shoulders and giving him a soft, warm smile. He sees the blond man wiping at his eyes under the rim of his glasses, and he waves at Sam as he starts to walk away.

The door to _The Bookmark_ closes behind him, the _Closed_ sign banging against the window, and it’s so weird but Bucky feels like he misses him already. He almost wants to run across the street to introduce himself to this man, to take that sad look away and see how he looks like when he smiles. It must be such a beautiful, contagious smile.

He spends the rest of his day trying to keep himself busy with work, but to no avail, because he keeps glimpsing through the window, hoping to see him again. But sadly, the door of the bookstore remains closed for the rest of the day. He knows Sarah lived above it and that it’s probably where the blond man is, sorting through his mother’s things.

When he closes at the end of the day, he walks by _Asgard Mechanic_ , the big doors are open and Clint is working on a motorcycle while Thor is face-first in a big old red pick up truck. Thor knows everyone in town, he is like his very own welcoming committee and Bucky still remembers the way Thor just walked straight to him, on his very first day here and hugged him, his feet lifting from the ground. “You’re so very welcome James Barnes,” he’d said. “I hope you’ll feel at home here with us.”

Bucky walks through the doors, and hops on the counter, lowering the volume of the small radio playing to get his friends’ attention.

Clint’s first reaction is to put a hand on his hearing aid, but then as he looks up, he spots Bucky and waves at him. “Hey man, what’s up.”

“JAMES!” Thor all but roars as he sticks his face up from the truck engine. There is dirt all over his face but with the way he smiles, it’s easy to forget about it. Thor is very adamant into calling him James because “That’s the name your lovely parents gave you.” Thor is a very formal person.

“Hey guys...Um. So, is there a new guy in town?”

Thor walks closer to him, wiping his hands on the rag he keeps in his pocket, and it does absolutely nothing to clean them. He leans on the counter next to Bucky, shushing him off of it, “It might be a garage here, James but we’re not animals, please sit like a normal person.”

Bucky does as he’s told and goes to sit on the ratty old chairs lined against the wall by the windows. To be honest, the counter is more comfortable than these.

“That must be Steven. He’s Sarah’s son. Came back this morning to take over the store.”

Bucky nods, he often forgets he didn’t grow up here with all of them, that he is the outsider here, even if they all adopted him as one of their own pretty easily.

“Did you guys grow up with him?”

It’s Clint’s turn to get closer then. “Yeah! But he looked nothing like that back then, man! Before he left for college he looked like half what he is now. Don’t know what they feed you in New York. He was only five feet something and carried his inhaler everywhere, always his nose in a book, though, just like Sarah. I think he went to study English lit actually.”

“He did yeah, heard he had to drop the program to come back here,” Thor adds, looking a little sad.

“Yeah but, we all know Steve wouldn’t let anyone else run the family business, he’s one stubborn bastard!”

Bucky stays for a little while, trying to get as much information about Steve he can get from his two friends, and feeling very creepy about it, thank you very much. While Clint looks completely oblivious to his questions, he knows by the way Thor looks at him that he’s not being subtle at all.

“You could stop by _The Bookmark_ this week James, introduce yourself, I’m sure you and Steve will be buddies, I mean…” Thor stops talking to gesture at James’ clothes, and tattoos and hair, with a smile and a knowing look.

Bucky thinks about the book on his bedside table that he is about to finish, thinks about how he was suppose to make a little stop at _The Bookmark_ before Sarah passed away. It wouldn’t kill him to stop by and try to get to know Steve better. It wouldn’t kill him but, it would be embarrassing, that’s for sure. Bucky is not as smooth as he used to be.

“I’ll do that yeah. I gotta go, I’m having dinner at my parents’ tonight, see ya guys!”

“Send my regards to Winifred, James, and to your father as well,” Thor yells at him as he passes the door. He laughs because he knows his mother will blush when he passes his friend’s greetings to her, he knows his father will get grumpy too.

That’s usually the effect Thor has on pretty much everyone in town.

Dinner at his parents’ place is quite uneventful as always, but that’s what he likes about it. The steady routine, the calm, just talking to them about what they did over the weekend.

His mother brings up the topic of Steve. She became fast friends with Sarah and was very saddened by her death.

She tells Bucky about how Sarah was always talking about Steve, about how proud she was of her son. She even gets all choked up, remembering him at the funeral. “She was all he had you know, his only family. I hope he knows we’re all here for him, that we were Sarah’s family and that we are his as well. 

Bucky tells her, holding her hand, that he will stop by the bookstore this week to talk to him, and his mother smiles at him, tears in her eyes, and rests a hand on his cheek, “You do that, sweetheart.

***  


Bucky wakes up the next morning with Herbert sleeping on his hair as usual. Like every morning, he starts purring as soon as Bucky opens his eyes, like he senses he is awake. That old grumpy cat is still alert no matter what Natasha tells him.

He lifts his arm above his head to pet him a little and he starts making biscuits right there pulling at the strands of his hair. “Ouch, okay enough, Herb.”

He gets up and he walks slowly towards the bathroom, leaving the door open because he knows Herb will scratch at the door and meow the whole time he is in the shower. He sits on the edge of the bathtub, on the other side of the curtain, like he does every morning. It’s like he’s scared Bucky will drown whenever he gets near water. It’s the most hilarious thing when he takes a bath and he’s just sitting there looking at him like Bucky is insane.

Drying his hair with a towel, Bucky walks back to his bedroom to grab a pair of clean boxers and put them on. He feeds Herb, makes himself breakfast, like he does every day. He gets dressed and then he stops for coffee at _Nat’s_ because her coffee will always be better than anything he could make at home. Same old routine, different day.

It’s all the same except from the thoughts filling his mind today. Except for the little butterflies he gets, seeing the _OPEN_ sign in _The Bookmark_ ’s door across the street.

He tells himself that he will try and go introduce himself on his lunch break. But the thing is, he can’t make himself walk there, he tries, and he just walks to his own door every single time, his stomach full of nerves and his heart beating hard and fast in his ribcage.

What would he say to him anyway? The dude just lost his mother. He can’t go in there and try to flirt with him. It’s not like Bucky even remembers how to flirt anymore, he’s a mess. He lost not only an arm, but memories and a lot of his confidence as well. And he thinks he could walk right in and try to act normal next to this English lit major who looks like the perfect mix between a Disney Prince and a punk?

He looks like freaking Hercules but with tattoos and nerd glasses. He’s so far out of Bucky’s league it feels like a joke.

And he is spiraling again.

Another reason why he’s clearly not ready to go there and try to speak with Steve Rogers.

Bucky’s week is pretty much filled with those internal freakouts, so in the end he doesn’t talk to Steve at all. All he does is look through his own windows, trying to get a glimpse of Steve whenever a customer goes in or out.  
  
Natasha senses his turmoil because every morning as she pours his coffee she looks more and more concerned. She is always asking him if he is alright and he tries to avoid her eyes as he lies because he knows she will call him on his bullshit.  

He doesn’t even see Steve again after that very first glimpse he had of him on the street with Sam, why the actual fuck does he feel so all over the place?

So, of course, destiny decides to fuck up with Bucky and as he enters the grocery store on Saturday morning, guess who is standing right in the middle of the produce section?

Steve Rogers. In the flesh.

He is with Peggy, and they are talking and laughing and he’s breaking Bucky’s heart with how freaking handsome and perfect he is when he smiles.

He can’t avoid them, this is a small town, this is a small grocery store, he has to walk by them, to grab some veggies and fruits and to just buy food. He has to!

He’s standing there, right by the door, holding his little basket handle so hard he knows his knuckles are white with the force of it. And that’s when Peggy turns around, wonderful, beautiful Peggy, turns to him and say,“Bucky! Sweetheart! Come over here, you gotta meet Steve.”

And… yeah. Maybe Bucky doesn’t like Peggy that much anymore.

He looks quickly at Steve and he is not smiling anymore. Steve looks a bit pink in the face and he’s staring at Bucky as he walks the few steps towards them. He should have worn his jacket this morning on top of his t-shirt. It’s so painfully obvious with short sleeves, that one of them is just empty. He should have worn something else than old ratty sweatpants and dirty converse, but he never had anyone to impress in town before.

He drops the basket between his feet, as Peggy makes the introductions, and Steve’s eyes never leave Bucky’s face when he finally takes his hand into his big, warm one and says, “I’m Steve, nice to meet you.”

“James owns the record store, right across from you.” Peggy adds, “His parents are George and Winifred.”

“James?” Steve asks, finally taking his eyes away from Bucky and thank God, Bucky swears he was about to catch on fire, “But didn’t you call him something else when he walked in?”

“Bucky,” Bucky replies, “Middle name is Buchanan and there are enough Jameses here already, so…”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Bucky.” For the first time, Steve smiles directly at him and Bucky swears he can hear angels sing, right here, next to the broccoli.

“So you own _Barnes’ Records_?” He continues and Bucky can only nod because he’s not even sure if he heard properly through the angels choir’s lovely harmonies. “I’ll have to stop by, Ma had a nice record player, and I don’t want to get rid of it.”

“About that,” Bucky says, “I know I’m late but I was away in New York and I missed the day of the funeral, I’m bad at this but, my condolences I guess or… I’m sorry? Um. Well, what I’m trying to say is, your mother was a lovely lady and I wish I could have been there to tell her a final goodbye.”

He sees the way Steve suddenly gets emotional, how he swallows a few times, trying to chase the tears away, but it’s true, Bucky really loved Sarah, she was a great woman, and he’s upset he missed the funeral.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

Peggy is still standing there, watching both of them with a mix of sadness and something else. Bucky decides it’s his cue to leave them, so he grabs at his basket again, “I came to get groceries actually so I’ll uh. Just. You know. Do that. It was nice meeting you, Steve. Nice seeing you too, Peggy. You two have a nice day.”

He grabs at a few vegetables and fruits, trying not to look back at them, because they stay where they are and they keep chatting for a little while, and when Bucky gets a little further into the store, he swears he can hear Peggy say, “He’s cute right?”

***

Bucky spends the rest of his Saturday cooking for the week ahead and also binge watching _Peaky Blinders_ on Netflix. He wakes up to the “Are you still watching?” question lightening up his screen and Herb peacefully sleeping on his chest.

He can’t say he didn’t spend the rest of the day thinking about Steve, about the way he said Bucky’s name, about the way his eyes never left  him, making Bucky fidgety and nervous.

On Sunday, his mom calls him at the crack of dawn (okay, it was nine but for a Sunday it’s way too early) asking him if he can stop by the hardware store on his way later. He goes to his parents pretty much every Sunday, to help them a bit around the house. His mother’s latest obsession is to build little bird houses, and apparently she is in great need of paint.

“I called earlier and Sam said he will keep it for you. I’ll pay you back of course. Thank you sweetheart, you’re the best.”

She hangs up on him, leaving him sleepy, and groggy, trying to remember properly what she said.

Sam. Paint.

He might be able to remember that, right?

He turns over and goes to sleep for a few more hours, finally emerging a few minutes before noon, Herb curled in the small of his back, purring contently. He swears this cat never leaves his side and wonders what the poor thing does when Bucky is at work.

He follows him to the bathroom, of course, when he goes to shower, and he sits on the bed, looking at him curiously as he is getting dressed.

Bucky makes his way to the hardware store then, waving at the few people he meets on his way, stepping in front of _Nat’s_ dinner just to give her a smile through the window. Clint is in there, sitting at the counter and drinking coffee, his nose buried in today’s newspaper.

He almost bumps right into Sam as he makes his way into the hardware store. “Bucky, hey! Got your mom’s paint, just wait here.”

Sam might be one of the best people Bucky has ever met. There is a way about him, always helpful, always there, looking at you with deep brown eyes whenever you feel like it’s the worst day of your life. It’s like he has a sixth sense about it, like he can feel, can see all your dark thoughts following you like a little gloomy cloud.

Bucky remembers the first week he was here in town, he sat right next to Sam at the dinner. The other man just introduced himself, and smiled at Bucky and when he said “You alright man?” It was like he opened up a little hidden box in the middle of Bucky’s chest. Bucky started talking and talking and talking. He felt so guilty afterwards but Sam, he never gave him shit about it. “Sometimes, all you need is someone who can listen, you know. I’m glad I could help.”

And Sam Wilson was a really helpful friend. He helped Bucky set up his store, with Thor and Clint as well. He stopped by every few days, the first few months,  just asking Bucky the same question he asked the first day; “You alright man?”

And eventually, Bucky got better.

With meds, and professionals, and physical therapy, yes.

But also with the people of this town, and their big, accepting hearts.

Sam comes back with a bag where he put the spray paint bottles and hands it to Bucky. It’s a small gesture, putting them in a bag, it’s not pity for the one-armed guy, it’s just thoughtful and this, ladies and gentlemen, is Sam Wilson in a nutshell.

“Thanks Sam. Can’t wait to see what her next crafty obsession will be.”

“Oh you won’t catch me complaining Barnes, your mother is helping me run this business,” and he gives Bucky that gapped tooth smile of his and Bucky smiles back.

“Hey so, I wanted to ask you, you know Steve Rogers, right? Sarah’s son?” Sam asks him as they walk towards the registers and Bucky’s heart kind of stutters inside his chest. Like, what the fuck Sam? It’s like everybody in town had decided to talk to him about Steve, like his brain wasn’t already set 24/7 on the beautiful blond man since he first laid eyes on him.

“Uh. Yeah. Saw him, once or twice,” Bucky answers, trying to hide the tremor in his voice,

“You should stop by _The Bookmark_ this week. I figured you two would get along, with that whole tortured emo punk look you have.”

Bucky gives him an unimpressed look, “What exactly is a _tortured emo punk_? ”

Sam holds his hands up in surrender, “It’s not a bad thing, man! I just figured with the tattoos and shit, and Steve likes music a whole lot too,  you two listen to the same stuff.”

Bucky pays for the paint, mumbling “I’ll think about it,” to Sam before leaving the store with one last wave to his friend. Why, oh why, does everybody keep telling him that he will get along with Steve so well?

He will totally deny the way his heart does a little happy dance at that, though

 

On Monday, as the record-shaped clock strikes noon, Bucky sees the front door of _The Bookmark_ open, Steve suddenly appearing with a brown paper bag in his hands. He is in a t-shirt again, sleeves rolled up like a 50’s greaser, his tattoos on display and Bucky feels a bit dizzy just looking at him.

At the grocery store, he wore a jacket, but now, as he is sitting in the sun, the ink looks so bright against the pale skin of his arms, Bucky itches to see what it is. It looks colorful, and it doesn’t look like a complete sleeve but more like he had a few unmatching pieces here and there on both of his arms.

Bucky had a few on the arm he lost, and he is working slowly on getting a few back on the remaining one. He has one on his chest as well, as an effort to take the attention away from the stump and the ugly scars covering it.

Steve sits on the bench right in front of his mother’s bookstore, takes a sandwich from the bag and starts chewing on it as he looks at the people walking by, waving back and talking to some of them.

Bucky takes one steadying breath, trying as best as he can to gather the courage he needs for what he is about to do.

He grabs his light jacket, because yeah, he’s still a bit self conscious about the missing arm in front of complete strangers. He walks to the door, turns the little sign and writes Lunch Break with a black marker, and gets out, crossing the street and walking towards Steve Rogers.

Steve lifts his head as soon as he hears Bucky’s footsteps approaching him, and he smiles, instantly, and Bucky almost misses a step because it’s so bright, and pretty. And it’s for him.

“Hey! Bucky? Right?”

“Yeah! Saw you from my store,” Bucky motions with his thumb over his shoulder to his shop, “Thought you could maybe use some company? If that’s okay.”

“Of course yeah, I’d love that.”

Steve makes room for Bucky on the bench and he sits right next to him. It leaves his empty sleeve right on Steve’s side and he tries not to think too much about it. He’s so used to everybody in town knowing about it, he feels a fresh wave of anxiety, of fear, that Steve might judge him for it.

“Monday isn’t too hard on you?” Bucky asks, trying to make small talk as best as he can.

“It’s alright, m’trying to sort some stuff Ma left behind, you know, trying to call a few of her clients and providers to let them know they’ll be working with me from now on.”

_Oh._

“I’m …”

“Wow, that was depressing. I’m sorry.”

“No! No, you can talk about her, she was your mother, it’s still fresh and you have to take over where she left. I get it, must be hard.”

“Yeah… Yeah a little.”

They stay in silence for a few beats, Steve finishes his sandwich and grabs a little plastic container with veggies and ranch dip in it and hands it to Bucky. “Want some?”

Bucky nods and grabs a baby carrot. “You know pretty much everyone around here, right?”

Steve’s smile turns nostalgic, and soft, he shakes his head and chuckles a little. “Yeah, went to school with all of them. Gotta say I did miss this town. This bookstore, it was my life growing up, that’s what made me fall in love with books.”

“Yeah? Thor told me you studied English Lit?”

“Yeah, I’d… I’d like to write books, maybe? I would have liked to maybe teach it but… I don’t know anymore.”

“You still can write a book, that’s for sure. I’m pretty sure if you’re talented enough, people will read your books, degree or not. Even more now that you escaped the busy city for this small quiet town. You’ll have plenty of time to write.”

And right there, in the middle of the main street of this little town, Steve turns to face him, his blue eyes so bright, his cheeks tinted a faint shade of pink, and he smiles. He smiles at Bucky, some kind of bashful smile, like this, having someone who believes in him and encourages him, was all he needed.

And right there, Bucky might fall in love with him just a little bit.

“Thank you, Bucky. I guess I could, yeah. It is usually pretty boring around here. Apart from you, you’re the shiny new thing.”

Bucky huffs a small laugh. “Am not!”

“You are, pretty much everybody I’ve met since I came back has mentioned you” And then, that little bastard, he winks at Bucky and the sun suddenly feels ten times hotter on his bright red face.

After Steve finishes his lunch, they go  in, and Bucky wanders around the aisles, picking a new book for himself. Bucky likes fantasy and sci-fi a lot - he named his cat Herbert after all because he lost count of how many times he read _Dune_.

Apparently Steve likes sci-fi too and they spend a few more minutes talking about the last few books they’ve read. Bucky is pleasantly surprised to learn that they enjoy the same ones.

“It’s like... after the army, it’s a nice way to escape, in some totally different worlds, you know?” Bucky says and he didn’t want to go there yet, talking about the army and the war and explosions and a limb he lost along the way. But it’s too late, it’s out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

When it comes to books and music he has no filter really, they both make him feel better, they both make him feel alive after being hurt and sad and only half of himself for so long.

“Is that... where… why you?” Steve stutters, and he grimaces, like he’s feeling bad for asking, “Nevermind, it’s not - it’s not my place to ask.”

“No, it’s okay. Yeah, that’s where I lost the arm.”

“Okay. If some time you want to talk about it, know that I don’t mind. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Bucky smiles, then chuckles, trying to lighten up the mood a bit. “You must have learned that from Sam, right?”

Steve laughs then, a full belly laugh, baring his throat and oh, Bucky loves how he laughs with his whole body like that. “I can’t deny that,” he says then, laughter still making his eyes shine. “You two get along well?”

Bucky shrugs, they do yeah, but it’s because it’s simply impossible to hate Sam Wilson. “Something like that.”

It’s time for Bucky to go back to work, it’s way past his lunchtime and he took too much of Steve’s time already. He waves goodbye and Steve asks him to keep him updated on his book because he also wants to read it soon. Bucky says he could stop by anytime if he’s in need of new music. They smile at each other and it’s almost painful for Bucky to cross that door, and that street, and to go back into his own store, knowing Steve is only a few feet away.

 

***

The next few days are just the same as they always are, working and cooking and visiting his parents and reading. Every time he picks up the book from his bedside table, he is reminded of Steve, of his smile and the way their fingers brushed when he gave his card back to Bucky.

They don’t really talk to each other again, apart from a wave here and there in the morning when they open or at night when they close. Bucky tells himself he’s gonna wait, that he can’t spend all his lunch breaks with Steve, no matter how much he wants to.

But on Friday around noon, his prayers are answered as Steve is the one standing at the door of _Barnes’s Records_ . He’s wearing a navy blue henley shirt with a pair of jeans that were probably black once. They have a hole at the knee and the outfit is completed by nice brown boots and Bucky might faint right here with how gorgeous he looks. He is also wearing a different pair of glasses today, not his usual black rimmed  ones, these are more on the brown side and square shaped and he looks like such a pretty hipster. _What the hell_? Bucky thinks to himself.

He also looks almost shy, rubbing the back of his head, his other hand buried in his pocket, “Hey Bucky.”

Bucky is painfully reminded that he is standing there, just staring at him and that he barely managed not to drool on the floor. He puts the box he was holding up on his hip on the counter next to the register and walks up to meet him. “Hi Steve!”

Of course, Steve has to stop when he is all sweaty, his hair a right mess. Strands of it had escaped his bun, sticking to his damp forehead. His grey t-shirt is stained with ink from his pen literally imploding in his face and his clothes about an hour ago. He’s a mess and Steve looks like he just stepped off of a runaway.

“Hm, did you had a fight with your pen?” Steve asks with a small smirk on his pretty pink lips, gesturing towards the mess at the front of Bucky’s shirt.

“Yeah, man. And I fucking lost!”

Bucky takes a moment to rip the hair band from his hair, and as he learnt to do with only one arm and a few YouTube tutorials, he leans his head back, gathers all of his hair in his hand, hair tie around his fingers and manage to do his usual bun at the base of his neck.

It feels alright when he touches around his hair and face, not so much strands sticking to his face anymore and Steve is looking at him with a funny look on his face.

“What?” Bucky asks because maybe it’s hopeful thinking right here but, for a second, Steve looked like he wanted to kiss him.

Yeah right, Bucky’s clearly projecting here.

“I… I don’t want you to take it the wrong way but, I’m kind of impressed I guess. By all the things you do one handed. I got all my limbs and I’m so clumsy you have no idea.”

Bucky feels his face heat up a bit at Steve’s praises and he quickly turns around to walk behind the register, trying to hide as best as he can the blush taking over his cheeks.

“Lots of practice you know. At least I kept the good arm.”

Steve nods, looking quickly towards the shoulder of his missing arm. Bucky is wearing a loose neck sweater and he knows the tattoo he got to cover most of the scarring spread all over his collarbone is showing.

He thinks Steve might ask about it, he knows he is himself quite curious about Steve’s ink but no, Steve clears his throat and start talking about music instead, “What’s playing right now?”

“Oh! Um. Bach I think?” Bucky says, turning around to the record player behind him, the one that’s connected to the store speakers, “I love classical, it calms me on days I feel more antsy.”

Steve laughs then, looking at Bucky like he can’t quite believe if he’s real or not, “There you are, looking straight out of Kurt Cobain’s wardrobe listening to Bach? Wow.”

“Hey! You of all people should know not to judge a book by its cover, Rogers! Don’t be a music snob.”

“I think you’re the snob here, with your classical music,” Steve says, tilting his head towards the record player, clearly amused by their banter.

Bucky shakes his head, “I just got a new record from a heavy metal band from Iceland if you prefer? It’s... quite violent?”

Steve leans down on the counter then, resting his forearms on the hard surface and Bucky feels hot suddenly, looking at the veins and muscles under inked skin. He takes a moment to look at them properly. There are some shapes, some words, a flower and a bird. A bright red star is inked in the inside of his wrist.

He smells good, something warm and a bit sugary. Just sweet enough. Bucky wants to lean closer too, to inhale him, to bury his face in the pretty, soft looking space between Steve’s neck and shoulder.

“No, I’m more of a classic rock kind of guy.”

“Of course you are.”

And the sound of Steve’s laugh sends goosebumps all over Bucky’s skin.

“What can I do for you today, Steve?” Bucky asks, trying to change the topic to something more business like, because he’s about to jump across that counter and climb Steve like a tree.

Steve straightens up quickly and he looks a bit embarrassed again, “Oh um. Sam. Sam told me to stop by and ask you if you wanted to join us for beers tonight? It will be Clint, Thor, Sam and me.”

“Oh! Yeah of course, I’ll be there,” and the smile he gets in return is worth looking like an ink-stained, sweaty mess.

***

 

Of course, Bucky has a little breakdown at home later when he’s getting ready and has no idea what to wear. In all the years he’s been in town, he never had to impress anyone. Not until now. Going through his wardrobe it’s like everything he owns has holes or stains and what the hell, he needs to go shopping very soon.

He reluctantly grabs his phone and dial Natasha’s number, knowing very well that she’s going to make fun of him but hey, he’s having an emergency here.

But she knows. Nat knows everything in this town and he’s sure she hid some cameras and microphones all over the place because he doesn’t even have time to explain why he’s calling she’s already listing a few items of his wardrobe. “That dark grey sweater your sister gave you, leave a few buttons open, it’s hot when you show your collarbones. That pair of jeans, the dark blue ones with no holes in them. And your Docs, of course.”

“I don’t even wanna know how you know.”

“Hard not to notice the way you look at him, James.”

“I hate you!”

“No you don’t. Have fun, and please don’t let Clint drink too much, his parents are visiting tomorrow.”

He says goodbye to her and promise to keep an eye on Clint as he is taking out the shirt and jeans she suggested and yeah, okay, that’s a great outfit. He heads into the shower, Herbert as always guarding the bathroom, and he decides to keep his hair loose, drying it with his towel and putting great care into it so it doesn’t look too messy.

Oh God, it’s been a very long time since he felt this nervous.

He grabs his wallet, his keys, carefully pins the sleeve of his shirt, pets Herbert’s head and then he’s out the door. He knows it’s not a date, because Clint and Sam and Thor are going to be there as well. He knows that, and to be totally honest they haven’t known each other long enough for one of them to ask the other out, Bucky thinks. It still sends butterflies flying around in his stomach and all the way up to his throat. He’s nervous, he’s happy too, thinking about how cute and a bit shy Steve looked when he asked him to join them. How happy he looked when Bucky said yes.

Like pretty much everything in this small town, the bar is reachable by foot, so he walks there. He keeps pulling at the hem of his sweater, buttoning and unbuttoning the collar, a few times, before remembering Natasha’s words and, no matter what he’s trying to tell himself, he kind of wants to impress Steve.

He remembers the look Steve sent his collarbones and tattoos earlier in the store and he thinks she might be right.

When he reaches the bar, Sam and Steve are already there, chatting together just outside the door and Bucky’s heart might skip a beat. Steve looks so good, it’s like every color is his color and whatever he wears makes him look incredibly good. He is in blue again, with khaki pants, nice looking ones, and nice shoes as well, his hair is gelled back showing the shaved side of his head and he doesn’t have glasses on tonight. The way his long lashes are framing his pretty blue eyes probably should be illegal in a few states.

Bucky reaches for his collar again, but this time it’s because of how hot he suddenly feels.

Sam is the one spotting him first, calling him over, and maybe it’s night time, but the smile Steve throws his way might light up the whole damn street. 

“Hey Bucky,” he says softly, and he is trying to be subtle about it, but Bucky notices the way Steve’s eyes are taking him in from head to toe. “You clean up nicely,” he adds with a smirk on his perfect lips and it makes Sam cough loudly before Bucky can even answer.

“We’re not even inside yet, tone down the flirting a little, maybe?”

Steve doesn’t even deny it, he just shrugs, still smiling with cheeks just a little bit pinker than a few moments before.

They quickly hear a booming laughter from farther down the street and when they turn around they see Clint and Thor walking towards them, Thor with his head thrown back mid-laughter, and Clint almost falling face first on the side walk with the force of Thor clapping him on the back.  Those two, they have such a weird friendship but surprisingly, they make it work.

“Samuel! James! Steven!” Thor yells at them, waving his big hand back and forth.

They are lucky enough to get a booth in the back and Bucky’s pretty sure it’s because Tony, the owner, knows how loud they can be. He gets in right after Steve and they end up sandwiched next to each other in the middle of their friends, their knees and shoulders often bumping as they talk and drink.

Steve is always leaning in closer to hear what he’s saying and Bucky doesn’t know if the beer or Steve’s smell is getting him drunker by the minute. At some point, he’s not even aware of Sam at his side anymore, or Clint and Thor at Steve’s. They end up in their own little bubble, and they talk about everything, about books, about music and concerts, and about missing New York, but also loving this town so much.

Bucky loves Steve’s laugh, and the way the alcohol turns him a bit pinker and how he talks with his hands, and how excited and cute he gets when he talks about his favorite books and favorite writers.

The next thing he knows, the others are leaving, both giving them knowing smiles, and he notices how tipsy he is when he gets up and he stumbles a little, Steve solid and stable next to him, holding him up.

Steve insists on walking him home when they are all hugging and saying goodbyes and goodnights, and Bucky can’t find it in himself to say no to him. So they start walking to his place, under the bright moonlight and the stars littering up the dark sky above them.

“I had a great time tonight, Bucky. It’s fun talking to you.”

Bucky looks sideways at Steve, throwing him a smile, “Likewise.”

“I love those guys with all my heart, but I never talked books with them. It’s nice having someone I can share that with.”

“Yeah I understand. They think we’re nerds, but we’re intellectuals, Steven,” Bucky jokes, and it makes Steve giggle, grabbing at his chest and Bucky bites his bottom lip, quickly taking his eyes away from him. It hurts, how bright Steve shines. How he looks so at ease, so confident.

Steve looks up at the sky and he says with wonder, “Man, I love space!”

And Bucky laughs then, at Steve’s tone, at how he completely changed the topic. “Dude you’re drunk,” Bucky tells him, bumping their shoulders.

“ _You’re_ drunk!”

It only makes Bucky laugh harder and he has to lean against the nearest building, as tears are filling his eyes. “You’re such a child,” he says opening his eyes to look back at Steve. Steve has stopped to look at him with a small smile, and eyes big and bright. It’s like he thinks that Bucky is beautiful or something.

It makes the butterflies inside of Bucky soar and fly and his heart flutters as they fly all around it.

When they reach Bucky’s door, it might be the liquid courage that pushes him to invite Steve inside, and as Herbert greets them, Steve kneels to pet him and talks to him in that silly voice everybody uses with pets. Herbert is quick to get bored with Steve though, and quickly pads towards Bucky to rub against his legs.

“Don’t worry, he’s a bit grumpy,” Bucky tells him, when Steve pouts sadly at being ignored by the feline.

“What’s his name?’ Steve asks, and Bucky answers quickly, and for once he doesn’t feel embarrassed or have to explain where the name comes from.

Steve only shakes his head fondly, saying “you’re such a nerd,” and coming from his lips, it feels like the best compliment Bucky has ever received.

Bucky thinks they have had more than enough beers already, and it might be stupid but, he wants to remember tonight. So he asks Steve if he wants water, and they both sit on Bucky’s old ratty couch, with Herbert on the armrest on Bucky’s side. And they talk, turned towards each other, knees bent, and Steve’s arm resting on the back of the furniture, fingers inches from Bucky. They quickly drink their glasses of water and then Bucky makes a pot of herbal tea, the one he takes whenever he can’t sleep.

They talk and talk and talk. And Bucky speaks of the army, of his buddies he still sees once a year, of the ones he lost, as well. He tells Steve about his sister studying in England and his parents, who are just the best and how much he loves them. How patient they were with him when he came back, all broken and not the same Bucky as he was when he left.

Steve talks about his mom and how scary it is, knowing that the only family you had is now gone. He gets a bit emotional speaking about all his friends here in town and how, maybe they are family too, maybe he’s not as alone as he thought he would be. He talks about how much he loves running the store even if it’s full of memories of his mom and sometimes he feels like crying behind the register when he finds little notes she left him.

Steve leaves just as the sun is about to rise, and they share one long hug. It feels nice and safe and it smells like Steve’s sugary cologne, and a bit like beer too. It’s weird but also weirdly comforting for Bucky. He loves the way Steve seems reluctant to let him go. He loves the way he squeezes Bucky’s hip before stepping back. How he smiles, small, but warm.

Bucky thinks he might be already just a little bit in love with Steve Rogers when he closes the door behind him. He thinks it’s been a very, very long time since someone made him feel that comfortable and good and happy. He falls asleep smiling in his pillow, Herbert softly purring next to him.  


***  


Bucky spends the rest his weekend feeling like he is floating on a little cloud. He can’t wipe the stupid smile off of his face and he catches himself more than once in the mirror, get a hold on yourself Barnes, come on! Bucky thinks to himself.

He goes to his parents and his mom is smiling at him knowingly, but she says nothing, thankfully. It already feels embarrassing enough without having his mom gushing about it.

The weather is warm and pleasant, so he can take his book outside and he spends the entirety of his Saturday evening curled into the lounger on his front porch. He puts a record on inside, the music softly playing and wrapping around him like a nice bubble. Alex Turner is wondering if this feeling goes both ways and Herbert is sitting on top of the stairs, looking at the birds and bugs flying around.

His Sunday goes just as swiftly, getting up late, going to the grocery store and cooking a bit. It’s a normal weekend in Bucky’s life and it’s good, it’s nice. Some people might think it’s boring, some people might need to fill every single free time they have and Bucky, he used to be like that. But not anymore, and he’s more than fine about it.  

He loves his little grandpa life. He loves his cat and his evenings spent just reading or watching Netflix.

He wakes up on Monday feeling just as good as he did all weekend. He walks to _Nat’s_ , almost skipping his way down the streets. When he pushes the door, Steve is there, sitting at the counter and chatting with Angie. He quickly turns around as the bell above the door rings, and he smiles at Bucky in a knowing way. Like he also spent all his weekend, happy and giddy.

Bucky sits right next to him. “Good morning.”

He bumps his shoulder against Steve’s and Steve bumps right back, smiling at him and whispering his very own good morning. “Clint might have told me you stopped by every morning,” he adds, looking down at his cup of coffee.

“I forgot to ask for your number on Friday.”

Bucky’s heart starts banging in his chest and he slips his hand into his back pocket, handing his phone to Steve with a smile. “Of course!” Steve’s hand is warm from where it was wrapped around his coffee mug, and he quickly sends himself a text from Bucky’s phone, his own vibrating against the counter.

“There you go,” Steve says, smiling up at him. He’s not wearing his glasses but Bucky quickly spots them, resting in the front pocket of his shirt. It makes Bucky smile as he takes a place right next to him.

He doesn’t have to say anything and a coffee mug magically appears in front of him, but this time, instead of being the usual to-go cup, it’s a ceramic one. Natasha shoots him a smirk from above her shoulder as she is walking away with the coffee pot to refill the demanding mugs of other customers.

“Did you spend a nice weekend?” Steve asks him before taking a sip from his mug and Bucky notices there is also a blueberry muffin in front of him. He starts tearing it apart as Bucky tells him how he spent his time.

Steve nods, and pushes his plate towards Bucky. “Hungry?”  Natasha’s muffins are so good, he can’t refuse, really, the piece Steve is offering him. He picks a little bit of the pastry before popping it in his mouth, smiling around it. They chat a bit more as they finish their coffee and then they both walk together to their respective stores, a bit late but hey, that’s the perks of being his own boss.

As they are about to part ways, Bucky starts playing with a few strands of hair at the base of his neck, “You could come to the shop for lunch if you want,” he asks, trying to look confident but also not knowing where to look with Steve being right here, with his smile and his bright blue eyes.

“I would love too, I made cookies over the weekend. I could bring you some?”

“I would love that, see ya at noon?”

“See ya, Buck.”  


***  


Just like that, they fall into a routine. They get coffee in the mornings, and they eat lunch together more often than not. Sometimes in either of their stores, sometimes outside on the bench when the weather is nice and warm. On Fridays, sometimes they go out with the boys, sometimes they make dinner, just the two of them, and they watch a movie.

When they are not together, they text. All day, every day.

It starts with Steve texting him funny memes, and other silly pictures when Bucky leaves for New York to see his doctors.

Steve quickly learns how nervous those trips to the city are making him. He knows that when Bucky comes back, it always takes him a few days to get back on his feet. Bucky feels a bit all over the place on those days, like he is too big for his skin. Like everything is too bright and too loud.

Steve always lets him have some time alone, always waits for Bucky to come back.

They also hug all the time. When they meet, when they part ways. Steve’s hugs quickly become the highlight of Bucky’s days. It feels the same way as coming home after a long day does. It feels so comforting it’s almost scary sometimes. Some days, he thinks about not letting go. About spending hours, days, wrapped in those arms. 

He knows it’s a ridiculous thought, because if you asked him years ago he would have laughed right in your face. But, being with Steve feels like he met his soulmate. Like someone, somewhere put him on Bucky’s road like, there, he’s the one for you.

He never felt that way before. Becca makes fun of him every time they Skype, but he sees in her eyes and her smile how happy she is for him. He will always remember that time she called him when Steve was at his place, how she demanded to talk to him. Steve was his usual charming self, making her smile and laugh. He told Bucky he liked her. She told him he’d better be marrying Steve _asap_ , a few days later on another call.

They both start leaving stuff at each other’s place and more than once, one of them falls asleep at the other’s place after their usual Friday movie night. But they always, always sleep on the other’s couch, or sometimes in the guest bedroom. Never together.

Bucky thinks he will never forget the first morning he woke up on Steve’s couch. The blanket that had been thrown on top of him smelled so much like Steve, Bucky felt light headed with arousal. But it was nothing compared to the sight of Steve, fresh out of bed, shirtless in just a pair of ratty old sweatpants the color of his college back in New York. His hair was all over the place, and Bucky’s fingers itched with the need to just touch it. All of Steve’s ink was on display and Bucky would have just stayed here all day, looking at it, tracing it with his fingers and lips.

Bucky remembers vividly Steve’s voice, rough and gravely and deeper than usual. He remembers the way he laughed, trying to tame Bucky’s own mess of tangled hair.

It sent shivers all the way down Bucky’s spine.

There is one of Steve’s shirts that is basically his now. Steve gives it to him whenever he sleeps or showers at his place. He told Bucky one day, a little bit pink in the face, that he could just keep it, if he wanted. Bucky always brings it back to him anyway. It scares him a little if he’s honest. That connection they have, how easy it is between them. Because of his previous relationships, he is kind of always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Back in New York, he was still too broken for a relationship and he ended up hurting the people who tried to take place in his life. They all complained about his lack of communication, or got spooked by the nightmares he was having at night.

He is scared of making a move on Steve because, if it doesn’t work, he will lose what they have right now and it's too good for Bucky. It’s one of the very good things he has had in years. He knows it could get better if he talked to Steve, if he put words on his feelings. But Bucky is terrified to make a move.

And this shirt, this deep green shirt, that is so soft and just a bit big on him, it has become  so much more than just a shirt. Steve keeps offering that Bucky just keep it, Bucky always refuses.

Bucky knows deep down that one day, when he’s ready, he will just keep that shirt. And he will kiss Steve. And he will let himself go, and he will say thank you, to this  beautiful man for making him feel so whole, and real.

***  


They start going to the farmer’s market in the town over. It’s Peggy who told Steve about it. Steve enters his shop one day, suggesting they could give it a try.

The Saturday after that, Steve picks him up way too early, but with coffee, bless him, and they drive together in almost silence as they listen to Steve’s playlist.

Like Bucky made his way into Steve’s life, he has also made his way into his music taste. He loves showing new music to people and Steve is a great audience. He is pretty much open to everything and he keeps adding songs to a never ending Spotify playlist in his phone.

One day, Bucky almost dropped said phone on the floor when Steve asked him to put something on while he was making dinner. Bucky found a playlist with his name and _man_ , it was full of songs Bucky did show him but, it was only love songs. Every single one of them.

Bucky never said anything about it and neither did Steve. But he must know right? That Bucky saw it, he always lets Bucky mess around on his phone and pick the music. There is no way Bucky could have missed it. And yet, neither of them said anything. Neither of them have played it during one of their many road trips.

On the weekends, they cook together sometimes. They go to the grocery store and they buy loads of stuff and they cook, sharing the results between them so they can have food for the rest of the week. Steve loves to bake and makes all kinds of sweets that he brings to Bucky when they meet for lunch.

As Natasha said one day, they are all of a couple but for one thing, the physical part. Bucky is still okay with what they have, though.

Because those lonely evenings he used to spend on his front porch, reading and listening to music, now they are shared with Steve. And they are just as peaceful and calm, expect that now, Steve is sitting there with him, reading his own book with one hand and petting Herbert with the other. The only change is that now the music playing is sometimes picked by Steve. And when he goes to sleep on those nights, even though he is alone in his bed, (sorry Herb) it feels less like it. Because Steve’s still there with him, even asleep in his own bed a few miles away.  


***  


Bucky gets a call from his one friend from New York, Dum Dum. He plays the drums in a band. They make covers of all the greatest 80’s songs. They are performing in a town a few hours away, next Saturday. It’s been forever since Bucky saw them play, and he knows how Steve loves old rock bands so he asks him if he would like to come with him.

Of all the things they have done together, it’s the very first time that it sounds like a real date. Bucky realizes it as soon as the words are out of his mouth but Steve, he smiles and nods excitedly, “Of course! I would love to!”

When he calls Natasha that night, he talks to her about it. “Maybe I’m the only one who thought about it as a potential date?”

“Or, maybe he is really on board about going on a date with you, dumbass?”

“Maybe,” he says to Natasha, and he can’t help but smile.

It’s been months, really that she keeps telling him to man up, and just tell Steve how he feels. She swears he feels the same way as Bucky does. He wants to believe her, of course he does, but for the longest time, it was so much easier to hide than to face the music.

Maybe it’s finally time. Maybe it is the perfect occasion for this to be a date. To hold Steve’s hand and to kiss him and to confess that he might be a little bit in love with him. Maybe it’s time to tell the man that all those things they are doing, he wants to do them for the rest of his life.

Maybe it’s time to take that damn green shirt, and finally claim it as his own.

***  


When Saturday finally rolls in, Bucky is a nervous mess.

He made an effort and bought some new clothes for the night, which says a lot because he thinks he still owns some stuff from his high school years. He didn’t get a damn suit because they are just going to a rock concert, not a five star restaurant. But he tried a bit harder than all the other times they hung out together. He let his hair down, put on his best leather jacket and he bought a new pair of jeans, so tight they look painted onto him. He tops it with a nice purple shirt. His dog tags are still around his neck, resting right above his heart.

When Steve parks in front of his house, he feels his heart making a crazy little dance. He starts getting doubts over all the things he’s been telling himself for the last few days. Maybe tonight isn’t the right time, maybe he should wait. Maybe he should never tell Steve how he feels. Maybe it’s not reciprocated and it’s all in Bucky’s head...

But Steve, he smiles at him, and he pulls him into an awkward one-armed hug as soon as Bucky gets in the car. Steve looks nervous, fidgety and keeps laughing at the silliest things. He keeps rubbing at the back of his neck, keeps pushing his glasses up his nose. Those mundane little gestures, they give Bucky the courage he needs. It tells Bucky that for Steve, maybe it feels like a date, too.

Bucky looks at the road unfolding before them and he smiles. Because tonight, Bucky will kiss the love of his life. Because tonight will be great.

 

Bucky feels _amazing_! Bucky is, so, so happy. The music is awesome, and Bucky looooves to dance and the beer is really good.

Bucky is also quite tipsy.

When they got to the venue, Steve bought them beers, and even though Steve himself stopped after the very first one and switched to sparkling water, Bucky kept drinking, because he is not the one driving them back and because he is so nervous and thirsty that he downs his beers a little bit too quickly.

At first he said oh, you know it’s just to calm down a little. It worked for a little while until they sat down in a corner booth. Steve sat so close to him, even though they were alone. Bucky felt the warmth of him, and his cologne, and the way Steve kept leaning closer and closer to talk to him…

Bucky then escaped to get another beer. Then another. Then Dum Dum arrived and it was like “Bucky! Long time no see, oh my God! Come meet the band, have shots with us!”

So yeah, here is Bucky, a few hours later, current resident of Tipsy Town, rolling not so swiftly on the highway to Drunkland. Ah! He is hilarious.

He starts giggling to himself, Steve shooting him a weird look. The band, now on a few minutes break, is as good as ever and Bucky is having a wonderful time. Steve leaned into him a few songs back, wrapping an arm around Bucky’s waist and said “They are fucking awesome!” They danced, next to each other, swaying to the music and singing along.

Bucky is happy, he is laughing and he can’t help but sway closer and closer to Steve. He holds himself against the other man shoulders and arms. He lets his head drop onto Steve’s shoulders at some point when the blond man just shakes his head, fondly, whispering “God, you’re so drunk.”

Bucky can’t deny it really, and he also can’t keep his hands to himself. Where he is not usually a handsy drunk, he can’t help it with Steve. It’s like his whole body has a mind of its own when Steve’s around, and with alcohol in the mix, he is surprised he still hasn’t embarrassed himself further.

With his head still pressed against Steve’s shoulder, he reaches with his hand, now free of a beer bottle. He reaches and tentatively, brushes his fingers against Steve’s, “Maybe a little,”

His thumb runs along the shape of Steve’s own, his fingers almost tickling the inside of his palm. “I needed liquid courage.”

He lifts his head now, looking at Steve. The other man’s blue eyes are wide, but it’s not shock, it’s not disgust either. It’s hope.

“Bucky…?” Furtively, he looks down at Bucky’s mouth, his tongue running quickly over his plump bottom lip. They both look so pink even in the dark, Bucky feels dizzy with it.

He thinks he needs to sober up a little before he lets himself kiss Steve. He thinks he tastes a bit too much of cheap beer as well. There is also the part where he wants to be sure he never, ever forgets this kiss and he wants his head a bit clearer for when that moment happens.

So, Bucky hides his face into Steve’s neck again, and he inhales that sweet and warm scent there. He breathes in the sugary cologne, mixed with sweat and there is a trace of Bucky’s own shampoo as well, from the many, many times he clung to Steve for the last few songs. Bucky just holds onto Steve’s hand, stepping in closer until every part of their bodies are aligned together.

He feels Steve’s free arm, wrapping around his shoulders, Steve’s hand slowly cupping his neck, fingers scratching deliciously at his scalp, and they stay there until the next song starts.

Bucky lifts his head a little but he stays close and he doesn’t let go of Steve’s hand either.

Bucky switches to water after that, and when Steve offers himself to walk to the bar to get him a brand new bottle, Bucky accepts but still follows him. He never lets go of Steve, and if they are not holding hands, he is touching the small of his back, or wrapping his hand around his bicep. It’s like a dam just broke, and he just can’t let go.

The last few songs of the night, as always, are some power ballads. Steve looks at the few couples forming around them as they start to slow dancing in slow circles. He pulls Bucky closer to him, their cheeks pressed together and their arms loosely wrapped around each other. Bucky can’t stop smiling, trying to hide it as best and he can in the fabric of Steve’s shirt. But Steve must feel it, because he just holds him tighter.

When the lights turn on and the band says its goodbyes, they stay where they are, hugging in the middle of the room as people are making their way out. Bucky is reminded of John Mayer words, about slow dancing in a burning room. He thinks about it and smiles again because he knows that right now, the whole room around them could be in flames. And he wouldn’t feel a damn thing. He wouldn’t let go. But sadly, he has to. Sadly they can’t spend the night here. Before he takes a step back, Steve leaves a kiss against Bucky’s cheek, and he lingers there, for a beat longer like he too, doesn’t want to let go.

Bucky goes to say goodbye to the band and when Dum Dum hugs him, he gives him a slap on the shoulder and a knowing smile. “It’s nice seeing you happy, man.”

“Shut up!” Bucky says, running a hand over the back of his neck and looking at the ground, “Do you um.. d’you have gum or a mint or something?”

Dum Dum just laughs and search into his bag before dropping a few mints into Bucky’s open palm, “Go get some, Sarge!” the other man tells him with a wink. Bucky pops the handful of mints into his mouth and quickly chews on them, trying to chase the taste of beer away. If everything goes as planned, he’ll need it soon.

Steve is waiting for him next to the door, holding their coats. He gives Bucky a shy smile and then holds up his leather jacket, helping Bucky putting it on, making sure the empty sleeve is still safely pinned to the shoulder. Then, Steve reaches to take Bucky’s hand again, but seems to change his mind, letting his own drop to his side. Bucky shakes his head and decides to hold it, squeezing at Steve’s fingers and shooting him a smile.

They walk to the car in silence, then they only let go of each other to climb in their respective seats. Steve is frowning and he looks nervous and Bucky honestly has no idea why. They just held hands and slow danced and things were going pretty well according to Bucky and...

“Steve. I’m still a bit tipsy, but I’m not totally wasted. I know what I’m doing. I know that I want this,” Bucky says, reaching for Steve’s hand again. Steve turns his palm up, and he starts tracing the lines of Bucky’s palm. The frown is still on, but his lips are starting to stretch in a little smile.

“I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if this was a date, or not. I was a bit scared of getting my hopes up.”

“Steve,” Bucky starts, waiting for the other man to turn around and look at him. When their eyes meet, the only light comes from the lamp post in the parking lot a few feet away. And yet, Bucky still can see how blue Steve’s eyes are, how sincere they are. He whispers, like a secret only between the two of them, “It was a date.”

Steve laughs, looking down at their hands, and he leans between the console to leave a feathery kiss to Bucky’s cheek, this time dangerously close to his mouth. Bucky makes a sound of protest then, and he turns his head, his lips instantly catching Steve’s own. He waited months for this, he waited so long for this kiss and if he needs to claim it himself, he is more than ready for it.

For a few beats, it’s just a press of lips. It’s just their mouths, finally meeting and catching up on the rest of them. But then, Steve’s free hand reaches out to cup at Bucky’s cheek, then drops to his neck. It is warm, and grounding, and Steve’s thumb rubs at the bit of scruff covering Bucky’s square jaw.

It is enough to have Bucky press closer, to have him kiss a bit harder. He catches Steve’s bottom lip between his own, again and again and he leans his head to the side to kiss him deeper, to explore that mouth and learn the way it tastes by heart.

Bucky lets go of Steve’s hand to grab at the back of his neck, at his shoulders, trying to pull the other man closer. He doesn’t know what he wants more, to climb on top of Steve or to have Steve sitting on his lap. Steve seems to have the same conflict because they keep pulling and pushing and it feels so wonderfully good to finally have this man he dreamt about for months. Bucky feels delirious with it, or maybe he just needs some air because they’ve been going at it for quite a moment.

He starts laughing and he feels Steve’s pretty, swollen mouth stretch into a smile against his own. He lets his head fall on Steve’s shoulder and he realizes that he’s done that quite a few times tonight. It’s like his new favorite place. His safe spot. He can’t say he’s mad about it, if Steve lets him, he would spend all of his nights nestled there.

Steve hands protectively comes to cup the back of his neck, playing with his long hair and he sighs happily. Bucky thinks Steve doesn’t mind at all.

“I think we better be driving back home or we’ll never leave this parking lot.” Steve says, his voice low and soothing as always. It feels like a blanket falling upon Bucky’s shoulders, but at the same time, after that heated kiss they just shared it makes arousal run into his veins.

Bucky reaches for one last kiss before sitting back in his seat and reaching for the seatbelt, “I think you’re right.”

When he turns around, Steve hasn’t moved and is still watching him, like he’s in a daze, a soft smile is stretching at his lips, “Steve?” Bucky asks, his tone a bit confused.

Steve just shakes his head, gets his keys in the contact and fastens his seatbelt before he replies, “I just… I guess I can’t really believe how lucky I am.”

“Oh my God! Steve please drive us home so I can properly kiss the living life out of you without crashing this car, please.”

It makes Steve throw his head back and laugh and Bucky can’t help but reach for Steve’s thigh, leaving his hand there just above his knee. Bucky lets his head fall back against the headrest and looks at Steve, as he is backing them out of the parking lot. He can’t stop smiling and Steve can’t stop sending quick glances his way.

“Keep that hand where it is or I won’t be responsible for my actions.” Steve tells him with a smile when Bucky’s thumb starts rubbing circles against the fabric of Steve’s jeans.

“I’ll keep that in mind, but you’re pretty hard to resist now that I know what you taste like.”

Steve turns his head towards him and he looks for a long moment, a bit too long for Bucky’s liking considering they are driving on a dark country road and that it’s pretty much the middle of the night. “You make it pretty hard to resist you as well when you say stuff like that, Bucky.” Steve finally says, and he grabs Bucky’s hand and lifts it to his lips, leaving a soft kiss against Bucky’s knuckles.

They didn’t put any music on at first, Bucky realizes. It’s just them and the sound of their steady breaths. The car is in complete darkness apart from the little screen between them showing the time and the temperature outside.

The kisses, and the hand holding, it makes Bucky feel bold. He’s sober now, or mostly sober, so it’s not the alcohol talking anymore. It’s just him. He’s been told, since he came back from the army, to talk about his feelings more, to stop bottling up and to speak how he feels even if it’s the most silly things.

But this, it’s big. It’s important. What he is about to say, it took up all the space in his heart and mind for weeks now. Months even.

“Since the very first time I saw you, I wanted to make you smile. To make you laugh. You just got into town, it was your first day. And I thought you looked so sad, and that I wanted to make you smile.”

It’s silent for a few moments, Steve squeezing at Bucky’s fingers.

“When I saw you in the grocery store, I thought you were one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen,” is what Steve finally says.

It makes Bucky chuckle, “I was a mess.”

“You were not. You were perfect.”

It makes Bucky looks down at his knees. He feels a weird cocktail of emotions. It feels good hearing those words from Steve, it feels like warm sun is bursting into his veins. The problem is, that little voice in his head. That little voice filled with guilt and with disgust at his missing arm, at his scars. It’s still there. It reminds him about how he is far from perfect when he is in the middle of a panic attack or when he gets in a bad spot and can’t get the strength to get out of his bed and just take a shower.

Steve must feel what his silence is filled with, because he speaks again. “Hey. Don’t do that. I know you’re not perfect, we all have our problems Bucky, our flaws. I know you’re missing a part of your body. I know you’re not the man you once were. But I don’t know that past you. I know the Bucky from right now. And he’s more than enough for me.”

It makes a lump raise in Bucky’s throat. Earlier, Steve said he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. But Bucky’s the lucky one. He clears his throat and changes the topic. They will have to talk about it, but tonight, Bucky’s too happy to let the dark thoughts take control of this moment with Steve.

“All those times we went to the farmer’s market, did you hope it was a date?”

“Yes,” Steve says, without missing a beat.

“Me too,” Bucky replies, “Maybe we could say they were. Like… maybe we were just taking it reeeeeally slow you know?” He adds with some myrth in his voice and it makes Steve turn towards him, sending a bright smile his way.

“The slowest.”

Bucky starts fiddling with Steve’s phone then, from where it’s connected onto the car speakers and he thumbs through the many playlists there. He quickly finds the one he wants, and he presses play, putting the phone back in place and with his head against the seat he looks at Steve. The music slowly fills the car and it’s a James Bay song that starts playing.

_Sometimes I'm beaten_

_Sometimes I'm broken_

_'Cause sometimes this is nothing but smoke_

_Is there a secret?_

_Is there a code?_

_Can we make it better?_

_'Cause I'm losing hope_  
  
_Tell me how to be in this world_  
  
_Tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt_  
  
_Tell me how could I believe in something_  
  
_I believe in us_

He discovered that song one day on his way back from New York after a few painful appointments. Painful in a physical but also emotional way. And it spoke to him, about the beaten, the broken. About how to make it better. Back then, there was no _Us_ yet, just him always wondering how to get better.

When he talked to Steve about that artist and that album, Steve took a liking to it instantly. And as the _Bucky_ playlist fills the car, Bucky’s heart skips a beat because Steve too, sees an _Us_ between the two of them. And it fills him with warmth and light even surrounded by the darkness of the night. Steve looks at him, with a knowing little smile, “I was wondering when you would find that playlist. Gotta say, I was hoping you would.”

Maybe he’s still a bit tipsy, maybe he is just feeling bold. Maybe it’s Steve sitting right next to him in the dark, holding his hand while the other holds the steering wheel, because he smiles and he says, “I’m glad I found you.”

_I believe in something_

_And I believe in us_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank youuuuu to all the lovely betas I had, Charlotte, Kiki, Vanessa, Brianna, Andie and Aimee. I hope you enjoyed this fic and that you liked the art. You can find me if you want, on twitter at pocketsofregret and on tumblr at ravenkinglynch.
> 
> Note from HeyBoy: Thank you so much to Rosesnfeathers for the beautiful story!!! I still can't believe she took my art and then created such an amazingly rich world from it. You can find me on tumblr at HeyBoyDraws.


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